


Wondering About You

by havetaoque



Series: Candlelight [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Dreams, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Recovery, Tea, a funny feeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 06:32:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11098875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havetaoque/pseuds/havetaoque
Summary: After his rescue, Wade finds himself in the care of Peter Parker.





	Wondering About You

**Author's Note:**

> So I've decided to play some more in this odd AU I've created because it's fun. Welcome to "Candlelight."

Wade was choking, and all he could hear over the sound of his own heartbeat was the grunting of the two men working the bellows.

The fire climbed higher, licking at his blistered skin. Wade’s eyes watered with some combination of smoke and fear. If he could inhale more smoke he would pass out soon, he knew, but the skin of his back was melting, and it hurt too much to draw breath.

He felt something cool pierce his skin and sink inside him, a single point of relief from the heat that threatened to set his blood boiling. It withdrew, and Francis held up the knife stained red with Wade’s blood. Wade watched Francis flick his tongue out to taste the red blade and longed for a drink of something – _anything_. But his own blood was hot and he knew it would not quench his thirst.

“Hmm,” Francis said, licking his lips. “Still rare.” He wiped the blade off on Wade’s thigh and sheathed it in his belt. “Another hour should do it, boys. Give him a turn.”

“No, no, please,” Wade said, but it was barely audible as he choked on the smoke. Francis smirked. Wade knew it wouldn’t matter what he said. This pain was purposeless. His back was weeping and raw simply because it could be done.

The spit lurched over the fire as one of the men struggled to turn him. Wade closed his eyes and finally screamed when the fire touched his face.

“Wade.”

All he could see was the fire. He screamed again, thrashing. His legs became tangled in thick bonds and a weight pressed against his chest. Something warm, not hot, but to Wade’s fevered skin it might have been ice, and it shocked him enough that he stilled.

The room was dark and utterly quiet, except for his own ragged breaths and someone else’s quick, nervous panting. Wade blinked and saw the fire again, but it was only a candle flame, and it wavered as the hand holding the candle shook.

“Peter.” Wade fell back against the pillows with a stuttered exhale.

Peter blew out the candle and dropped his head onto Wade’s chest. He lay there, holding him and blinking back tears, until Wade’s heartbeat matched his own and then rolled off to lie next to him.

When the sunlight filled the open window of the bedroom in Peter’s cottage, Wade jerked awake in a panic from the way the light shone red behind his eyelids. The bed was empty and cold on the place Peter had slept, but Wade could hear Peter tinkering in the kitchen. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as his skin stuck to the sheets, and pulled on a patchwork robe set out for him over the back of the only chair in the room.

Peter looked up when Wade wandered into the kitchen and immediately set his tools down to pour Wade a cup of tea from the old chipped teapot.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked, sitting back down at the table. Wade cleared a small space for himself at the table and took a careful sip of the tea. It was cold. He smiled.

“I put ice in it. I didn’t think you’d want anything hot just yet,” Peter said.

“Thanks, Petey,” Wade said, “but I wouldn’t say no to you.”

Peter blushed and picked up a screwdriver.

Wade sipped his cold tea.

He placed the empty teacup on its saucer. “I’ll be on my way.”

Peter looked up, alarmed. “What? No. I thought you were going to stay here. While you recover.”

Wade paused, confused. “I am recovered.”

“You’re not. I rescued you from the tower yesterday! You’re malnourished and starved of human contact _and_ you were screaming in your sleep about being _cooked_ alive. Not just burnt. You said they were _cooking you_.”

“Yup, well, they were. They did. It was just a bad dream.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like they ate me or anything. Well they might have. I was kind of dead at the time, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Don’t talk like that, Wade!”

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want—”

“The hell you will!”

“—But since you so kindly pointed out that I do indeed owe you massively for getting my scarred ass out of that shithole prison tower, I’ll pay you back by leaving. Trust me kid, I’m bad news. Once they find out I’ve escaped, they’ll come looking for me, and they will kill you if they find me here, I guarantee it.”

Peter shook his head. “They won’t kill me if you stay.”

“Uh, yes they will. What are you going to do to fight them off? Shoot those webs at them? Beat their asses with your own skinny one? You’re spidery, but do you even know how to fight properly?”

“No,” Peter said, crossing his arms. “No, I don’t know how to fight ‘properly.’ But they aren’t going to kill me.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s stopping them from that?”

Peter tossed a dish rag at Wade.

“You,” he said, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Wade with the washing up.

Wade pulled the cloth off his face.

“Fuck.” He stared at the full sink. “Hey, I thought you said I needed to recover!”

Wade heard the screen door open and close and saw Peter go into the garden from the kitchen window. He sighed and rolled up his patchwork sleeves and washed the dishes, muttering to himself. “Little fucker. But damn it, he’s not wrong.”

 

Three weeks passed without incident, and Wade and Peter still slept in the little bed together. Peter’s house was tiny and consisted of a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom. When Peter had nightmares and called out for his lost loved ones, Wade would wrap him in his arms and wonder what it would be like to be loved by Peter.

When Wade had nightmares, Peter would climb on top of him and lie on his chest, aligning their hearts and stroking Wade’s sides until he fell into a dreamless sleep. Peter wondered how he could fall in love with someone he barely knew.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
